Nocturne
by caramelapples
Summary: Somewhere, she was quite sure of it, there was music playing. Because she could hear it so clearly, so beautifully. Each note becoming who she was and her body reacted to his touch, flushing - radiant in the bath of moonlight. Can you see that I remember?
1. Reflection

**A/N - Here's my first attempt at a more-than-one-chapter story, written for the one and only Allie. Sorry for the long absence. _Another _angsty fic, although this time, it has more plot than what I'm used to. So, I'm posting with more nervousness than usual. The rating is going to go up the next chapter although by the end of this chapter, you'll understand why. Take a deep breath, and enjoy!  
**

**Nocturne**

_By caramelapples_

_**Reflection**_

_If I am a traveller I need not to journey across the land.. If I am a voyager I need not to cross the vast ocean.. and if I am captain I need not to soar throughout the blue sky.. for I need not to go anywhere but beside you.. because when I'm with you.. I already see the world._

_-Mark Aaron A. Corrales_

She was a sight to behold, a stunning vision. The beautiful floral wrap she had tied around her waist accented the curve of her hips and the white one piece bathing suit she wore is demure, but at the same time, Brock thought that it left nothing to the imagination. The reds in her hair and the paleness of her skin worked well together, bringing out beauty like no other and his heart skipped a beat while his mind started to imprint this to memory, every faint outline of hers.

Every smile, every laugh.

Every blush.

The wind caught her hair and she lifted an arm to hold it to one side so it would not be a hindrance to her face.

"You look gorgeous, Reba!"

It was not he who spoke, but his wife and he fought the urge to smile at the irony. The spell was broken however and he pivoted on his seat to pay the bartender, seemingly uninterested as everyone fawned over how beautiful _she_ looked.

_Molokai. _That was where they were now. Molokai, Hawaii.

They would be there for a week - at this beach resort where beautiful women were everywhere. Cheyenne and Van had snuck off somewhere and Jake was still upstairs in the hotel room, preferring to entertain himself on his Gameboy all day. It had long ceased to surprise his parents.

"Where's Kyra?" Barbra Jean asked, frowning slightly.

"Babysitting Elizabeth," Reba replied casually, smiling.

"But that isn't fair, is it?" the blonde said and Reba shrugged slightly, lifting her shoulders elegantly. "I think she prefers to babysit than to come down _here_," she said, gesturing to the people - mostly couples - around her. Really, it wasn't Kyra's thing. "So where are we off to?"

"The beach, of course! Nobody comes all the way to Hawaii and _not_ go to the beach!" Barbra Jean exclaimed, dragging her best friend along with her. Brock followed behind, appreciating the view of two beautiful women. Reba threw a glance over her shoulder and flashed him a smile, perhaps in apology. Barbra Jean _did_ prefer to spend time with Reba, Brock thought amused and shook his head slightly.

This was good.

_Life _was good.

* * *

The moon was lovely, its illuminating light touched everything within its vicinity. Brock laid on his side, staring out the glass doors. The only sound he heard was the peaceful breathing of his wife sleeping beside him. Maybe if he strained harder, he could hear the sounds of life outside his window.

Without any aim, Brock got up from the bed, careful not to disturb Barbra Jean and moved towards the balcony, slowly sliding the glass doors open. The cool air was comfortable on his skin as he stepped out of the room, the specks of light below indicated that people were still awake and out. It was a beautiful night, and the warmth could be felt through the coolness of the air.

He thought he heard something then, and looked to his side but saw nothing. It sounded as though someone was leaving the room and curious, he returned to his own room, sliding the glass doors shut before throwing a robe over himself and opening the door to this room. The room next to his was Reba's. _Or_ was it Kyra and Jake's? If it belonged to one of the kids, the notion of either one of them sneaking out was _bad_ enough. He looked down the elegantly lit corridor, only to see the one person he didn't expect to leave the room in the middle of the night. Resisting the urge to call out to her, he slipped back into his own room and threw on the shirt and shorts he was wearing earlier today.

Grabbing the electronic key to his room and stuffing it into his back pocket, he silently left the room.

When the lift arrived at the lobby, he stepped out only to find himself without any knowledge of where she could be. Mentally kicking himself, Brock wandered down to the vast pool area and looked around, only to realize that he was amongst couples. Music floated in the air as couples danced, or sat quietly with each other.

_What was he doing? She was her own person. She could go wherever she liked, whenever it suited her be it in the middle of the night._

Just as he was about to go back upstairs, he saw a flash of recognizable red hair. He didn't want to call out to her, for fear of embarrassment but followed her quietly instead. She passed the pool and headed out, almost into the darkness and the mild guilt he felt about following her ebbed. She was headed to the beach. It was probably dangerous and he was just going to make sure she was okay.

He was just trying to protect her.

She was no more in sight the moment he reached the beach and his heart thumped harder.

_Where the hell was she?!_

Brock stepped closer to the beach and then, _he saw her._

He saw her pale form rippling across the waters and she leaned back, letting herself float on the waters, long limbs moving idly in the water. He moved closer and then decided to let her know he was there. How could he _not? _

"Snuck out in the middle of the night?"

The voice startled her and she almost lost her balance on the water but she calmed when she realize whose voice it was. Reba arched her body, and kicked hard so that she would be in a upright position again. She swam closer to the shore and Brock's throat went dry when he realized that he could see the droplets of water on her skin. She wasn't wearing anything.

Bare skin which was so beautiful, so creamy and all he wanted was to reach out and touch it.

"I missed the water," was her reply, so simple and truthful. It brought him out of his reverie.

Brock nodded in response, moving so close to the water that he could feel the ripples of it on his feet. "Isn't the water cold?" he asked, glancing at the deep blue around her._ I remember… do you know that I remember?_

"Don't you know, Brock? The water is warm at night," she told him, smiling. "Feel it," Reba urged, arms moving in sync with her legs. "It's warm."

And just like that, she disappeared into the water again, leaving a slight splash in his wake. He watched the waters carefully, waiting for her to rise to the surface any moment. Moments ticked and every second became the longest hour he had to live just waiting. Worry surfaced and he was reacting before he knew it - shirt pulled over his head in less than a second, he dived into the water.

When his lungs couldn't take it anymore, Brock forced himself to the surface to get some air only to find himself face to face with the woman he was searching for. Hair wet and cheeks slightly flushed, he couldn't stop staring at her.

"Brock?"

He coughed and sputtered somewhat, droplets of water making their way down his face. "The water _is_ warm."

"Yes." Her voice had become so much softer at this close range. "Yes, it is." It sounded like a whisper, and he couldn't help but stare at the soft skin of her shoulders. He couldn't look higher because he knew meeting her eyes would be pull him in… would make him do things he shouldn't.

But then again, he shouldn't be out here.

_Should he?_

"Why are you here?" So soft… her voice was _so_ soft. So were her lips. How he longed to touch those lips - to feel her breathe against his skin.

"I was - "

It was the only thing he could hear, the waves sounding like a distant roar and the wind like a distant hum. He could feel her closeness, her breath on his cheek and he wanted nothing more than to grab her and press his lips to hers, touching her and telling her that he -

_No. No._

_Stop._

The thing was, he couldn't stop no matter how much his brain was telling him to. He reached out touch her, his thumb tracing her jaw line. God, she was beautiful.

She was everything he had missed, everything he had yearned for.

Reba closed her eyes at the contact, and leaned into his touch, turning slightly to the side, the warmth so much more than the waters she was in could ever give her. A small flame flickered to life and she shivered in response, she wasn't cold - not at all cold. Somewhere, she was quite sure of it, there was music playing. Because she could hear it so clearly, so beautifully. Each note becoming who she was and her body reacted to his touch, flushing - radiant in the bath of moonlight.

"I missed the water too," he said, voice hoarse with emotion. "So much." Taking a chance, he looked up and her eyes gazed back at him with so much emotion - so much so that he almost faltered in his own gaze.

_Can you see that I remember too? Can you see that I remember you?_

_To be continued…  
_

**A/N - I hope that was all right. I don't really know what I'm doing here because I just veered out of comfort waters in writing Reba fics. Thanks for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated! Please let me know how I'm doing! I'm _terrified_ that I might be doing something wrong with this!**


	2. Rememberance

**A/N - Here's an update. Longer chapter this time and there's angst. I don't own Reba and any mistakes are mine. I struggled a bit with this chapter but I hope you'll enjoy!**

**Nocturne**

_By caramelapples_

_**Remembrance**_

_Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. . . . When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence._

_- Edmond de Goncourt and Jules de Goncourt, The Goncourt Journals_

She didn't go down and join the rest for breakfast the following morning.

The morning sun was beautiful, still climbing the horizons and painting streaks of gold and orange across the sky. Reba was content to just lie comfortable under the sheets and watch the what morning view presented her with.

Not to mention, she wasn't very inclined to face Brock, _and_ Barbra Jean - not after what happened last night. Although, nothing really did happen last night. Reba shivered slightly as she remembered Brock's fingertips caressing her cheek, his closeness doing nothing to repel the memory stirring within her as she swam in the sea.

She had been remembering…

The water had been warm, soothing and she felt light again.

And he came and she wasn't remembering anymore. Instead, it had become a desire to live it again, to feel the moment again instead of the usual dull aches the crystal clear memories brought along.

_He held her tight, so tight against himself, strong arms encircling her back… Feeling lips grazing her neck, Reba could also feel knots forming in her stomach. Words failed her and all she could do was breathe, to try and perhaps regain some momentum lost._

_The ripples of water surrounded them and the splashing sounds became music to their ears. Eyes closed, Reba tilted her head back and her long mane of red hair swirled in the water as Brock pulled her even closer to him, as though trying to meld their bodies into one. Legs tangled with each other's, the slow dance happened, body straining and twisting to the choreography or nature, hands grasping, feeling, trying to commit every detail of the moment into memory because this was so wrong and unlikely to ever happen again._

_This was so, so wrong._

_Because the only person she had a right to do this with is Terry. _

_But Terry wasn't on her mind now, Terry was still at the party with his friends. _

_Without realizing, tears slipped down her cheeks and disappeared into the vast sea around them. Her heart soared and sank at the same time, though impossible it might seem, as the tension built right at the bottom of her belly. He was making it harder for her to breathe, to think and to see anything around them but him._

_She was aware of his whispered cries of her name, and when the release came, she held onto him for dear life as she floated, soared as high as the sky would allow her to. Shuddering against him, Reba was thankful for the arms around her for she was sure if he wasn't holding onto her, she would shatter into a million little pieces._

_She knew that she never wanted to let him go. _

_She could never._

"_I love you, Brock," she whispered, her forehead resting against his, feverish and breathing heavily. "I love you. I love you," she repeated, like she was saying a prayer._

"_Oh God, I love you too, Reba. So much."_

_The silence between them was suddenly heavy with implications as their bodies calmed. Reba rested her head on his shoulders and bit her lower lip. "What to we do now?" It was the only rational thought that came to her mind._

_His answer, so simple and so convicted, plucked her from the abyss of uncertainty and soothed her fears. "We tell Terry," he said, stroking her soaked hair and kissing the crown of her head. "We tell Terry."_

Last night had brought all these back. Swimming in the sea had brought all these back. And Brock's appearance - Reba still couldn't be sure if he had followed her down - brought those memories back in full force, mocking and taunting her.

Brock had said he missed the water too. _So much._

And then promptly turned from her, got out from the water and told her to come out before she caught a cold. The heat drained away and his sudden shift in demeanour bewildered Reba, in addition to hurting her. Though, she understood why he did it. It was _always_ the same reason. The very same reason they couldn't just simply remain best of friends. Brock just simply didn't belong to her anymore. Perhaps he never did belong to her - which was why she could lose him so easily in the first place. That thought hurt, more deeply than him turning his back on her.

She had slipped back into her room quietly later on, clothes slightly damp. The dull ache in her chest remained until she had fallen asleep later on.

* * *

When lunch came around, Reba settled for room service and spent the whole afternoon reading a novel she had packed along. She was grateful for the hindsight, especially now that she was planning to avoid Brock the rest of their trip. Barbra Jean had not bothered her once, to her immense surprise and Reba prayed that it would remain that way throughout the whole trip.

Maybe if she was lucky enough, she might even meet a gorgeous - hunky - doctor and fall head over heels in love with him. Maybe she would have a torrid affair with him.

As long as said torrid affair was _not_ with her _ex-husband._

Despite the fact that Reba had stayed in all day, Molokai was lively - it got even livelier at night - and it beckoned her to go out. She heard the rest of her family return from wherever they had been to, and doors clicking into place.

_They were finally back._

And when Reba was fairly certain that night life was _indeed_ happening, she showered and slipped into the light summer dress she had packed for this trip only to have Kyra come in at the last minute and the smirking at her when realized that her mother was going out.

"Going somewhere Mom?"

"Going to find me some fun now that you guys have already had your fun," Reba replied, smiling widely and running the hairbrush through her hair a few more times before admiring her work in the mirror. "It's been a while since I've done something fun."

"Hope you rested enough this afternoon to last you the night," her daughter quipped, waggling her eyebrows suggestively and sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Bye, Mom."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Reba smiled as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

There was nothing to stop her from wondering if there was something about her love for the sea that drew her to the beach. Despite the fact that Reba had gone down to have a few drinks and maybe make a friend or two, the notion was quite forgotten when she heard the quiet sounds of waves against the shore.

The breeze against her skin was strangely cleansing and the salty smell or the sea hung heavily in the air. The dark sky was rather clear, and Reba could see the stars clearly from where she was sitting. She played with the cool sand, taking a handful in her fist and then letting them slip between her fingers. So she didn't really hear, or realize, that someone was coming up behind her.

"I didn't think I might find you here."

Reba froze ever so slightly, the owner of the voice being the one and only man she was avoiding.

"You didn't join us all day, I was about to check on you in case you had caught a cold." He moved into her line of view and she craned her neck to look up at him.

_She had been tipsy, the flush on her cheeks had betrayed her state to Brock and he had suggested they take a walk down the beach so she could get some fresh air. And again, she had to remind herself, she had been tipsy. So when she had declared that she was going to go for a swim right then and there, she hadn't really cared about the fact that it was rather late, and quite inappropriate in these circumstances._

_Leaving her dress as a pile of cloth of the shore, she had stepped into the water in her undergarments, leaving Brock still protesting on the shore. He had been saying something about Terry and how he wouldn't be happy about this. When he had realized that she wasn't listening, he had done the only thing which he thought a best friend should do._

_He went after her in the water, clothes also left on the shore with hers except for his boxers. Watching out for his best friend who was also his other best friend's girl._

_And she was also the girl he secretly had feelings for._

_Reba giggled when she realized Brock was behind her and turned to him, mockery in her eyes. "I thought you said this wasn't a good idea."_

"_It isn't. But you're out here, so I thought I'd come in too. Besides, you're drunk."_

_Her eyes widened and she smirked. "I'm not," she denied, splashing water at him. It did seem like something one did - splashing water._

_Brock wasn't sure who moved first, but one thing was for sure. She sobered up the moment his lips caught hers and the music - oh, the music was a symphony of joy - was the beginning of the dance. The air trembled around them as they became the only two people in the entire universe because nothing else mattered anymore._

"I'm fine," she replied nonchalantly, hoping that he wouldn't notice the goosebumps forming on her skin in the dim light of the moon.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see him settle down on the sand beside her. The silence was not a comfortable one, but it was as though the dampness wasn't the only thing making the air between them thick and stifling.

"I can see why you're so drawn to the sea _at night especially. _It's beautiful," Brock commented, chancing a glance at her. Reba's gaze was fixed outward to the sea and she smiled softly. Yes, it was beautiful. The moonlight sprinkled gold flecks onto the surface of the rippling water was a sight to behold.

"Yes it is," she agreed easily, pulling both legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

_Do you know why I love it Brock? It has nothing to do with the sea itself. _

"Last night -"

Reba felt her heart beat faster and stomped on the flicker of hope she felt deep in her heart. She allowed the hurt to fester, and the bitterness overcame her need to just grab onto him and kiss him. "Shouldn't you be with Barbra Jean right now?" she snapped, still staring ahead, willing anger to the surface. She could protect herself with anger.

"I should," Brock said quietly, watching for the reaction of the woman beside him.

She opened her mouth to argue - to protest - but then fell silent again.

"But I'm not."

"No you're not," she acknowledged, rapidly failing at becoming angry. "What are you doing here Brock?" she asked, not unpleasantly.

He shrugged noncommittally. "Do you remember?"

"Remember what?" She knew what he was asking; how could she _not_?

The quiver in her voice lasted for just a fraction of a second but years of experience and the fact that he knew her just _that_ well allowed him to catch it.

"Our first time." His voice was soft and it made her turn to him, just in time for him to cup her cheek, thumb grazing the sensitive skin below her eye. Her breath hitched, the way it hadn't hitched in such a long time, and she flushed, the heat from her body posting a strong contrast against the cool air.

They both leaned into each other in all painful slowness, hesitant, and the space between them, though close, was as wide as the valley between two mountain peaks before it disappeared completely as their lips finally met each other's. The music she had heard the night before became a constant hum in her ears and she welcomed it, not wanting to ever forget how its indescribable tune made her heart swell like it had never swelled before.

Tentative and somewhat shy in the beginning, they explored what seemed to be new territory when it was in all actuality, familiar and what was essentially _home._ She felt his tongue slip against her lips and she parted them, giving him access so he could dip inside and find hers. The flicker of hope she had extinguished earlier on caught life again, and it burned strongly in the pit of her stomach, spreading warmth throughout her body. Perhaps she had been so caught up in the moment that she didn't feel his arm snaking around her waist and she let out a soft gasp as he pulled her firmly against him.

The sound of waves and hints of nature now all drowned out by the beating of their hearts, she fitted perfectly against his chest, just as it had always been. Her hands trembled as she slipped them under his shirt, tracing a firm chest, and trembled even more when his lips left her mouth and he nibbled on the soft skin below her ear. Words failed to form sentences in her mind and all she could manage was sighs and soft moans.

"Do you remember?" he whispered, his breath caressing her skin and sending shivers down her spine. "Do you _remember_?"

_He held her tight, so tight against himself, strong arms encircling her back…_

She nodded, because speech seemed to be unavailable to her and she wanted him to know that she did. Her fingers busied themselves with the task of undoing the buttons on his shirt, the semi-darkness posing no barrier - the act itself being something she had done so often in the past. With the last button undone, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders impatiently and he in turn, recaptured her lips with his.

Brock pushed the strap of her dress off her shoulder and she felt the cool air whisper against her back. Somewhere along the line, he must have unzipped her - she couldn't tell - and his hands travelled her skin, pushing the dress off her torso so that it pulled around her waist. She shuddered as his fingers whispered against her skin, making her ache in all the places she wanted to be touched.

In a flurry of quick motions, clothes were suddenly no more in play, and his skin, hot against hers with their hearts beating in harmony. She could feel his hands tracing the skin on her back as she leaned into him, nipping at his shoulder, though not hard enough to bruise. He gently pressed down over her with his body, giving her no other option than to lie down and she tensed, waiting for her back to hit the glassy sand, but instead, her skin felt a smooth, slippery fabric which was his shirt and she relaxed. His shoulders pressed against hers, and she welcomed the weight to ground her before she floated away.

Her back arched, pressing her hips into his, and she wound her fingers in his hair as her tongue danced with his. Feeling his fingers ghosting along her skin, she sighed along with the wind, giggling as he traced her ribs over the curve of her breasts, and moaned when he gripped her hip, words spoken in silence.

_I'm yours._

His fingers slipped past her hips and she rose up, head falling back, as she felt his fingers touching her, so gentle it was - she thought was imagining it. Hesitant as first, he paused and the tension swelled, every second bringing her to acute attention. Then tenderly, he began to stroke her - finding her ready; so completely ready. Her breathing erratic, colours high on her cheeks and skin damp with sweat and he thought she was the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever known.

He dipped a finger in, hitting a spot and she moaned, the contact causing everything around her except him to blur and become random colours. She grasped around blindly and buried her fingers in the sand beside her to anchor herself - he was sending tremors through her body and rational thoughts out the window. Tears sprang into her eyes in the absolute beauty of the moment, and she gasped when he pulled away all of a sudden, closed eyes flying open in surprise and dismay.

"Brock…" she started and trailed off when he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek.

"Trust me."

_I do._ _I love you._

She cried out when he slid into her and stilled for a moment, afraid to shatter the spell, the wonderful feeling of home she had almost forgotten, before hooking her legs around his waist and pulling him deeper. They settled into a familiar rhythm they both knew, one they had not allowed themselves to remember for the longest time. She pulled him to her with both her arms and their mouths met amidst the soft sighs of pleasure.

The pace increased and Reba felt the warmth inside her pooling, and drew him closer, trying to hold on to him tight before she came apart without someone to pick up the pieces.

The air stilled, silence expanded and she held her breath, hearing only their heartbeats in unison until her world imploded, vivid colours clouding her vision, and only thing she could hear was Brock crying out her name urgently. The tears stinging her eyes earlier escaped, staining her cheeks as she came apart with an intensity so deep she thought she might die. "I love you," she whispered softly, not daring to hope that he might reciprocate and partially regretting them. He settled against her, sated and breathing heavily, and kissed her on the forehead.

When their bodies started to calm, the colours seeping out and returning them to the world they were in, she pressed her palm against his chest slightly and he shifted so that he wasn't resting his entire weight on her.

"It's getting cold," he finally said quietly, sitting up and sorting out the mess of clothes belonging to the both of them.

"Yeah." Reba followed suit and started to dress after making sure that she flicked the dress slightly to rid it of sand, trying to block out the fact that he hadn't said much apart from stating the obvious. A few moments passed by and her chest tightened. _He didn't feel the same. _Coldness stabbed at her heart mercilessly and she angrily brushed away the last evidence of tears from her cheeks. _Of course he didn't. Why should he? _It wouldn't hurt as much if not for the fact that she knew she didn't really have a right to want more.

"We shouldn't -"

"I have to go," she muttered and turned from him abruptly before he could say anything more and started walking - almost running - back from where they came from. She couldn't bear to hear him say it was a mistake. Reba knew it was, _ of course _it was a mistake.

"Reba!"

She didn't turn, but increased her pace instead. She didn't want to hear what he had to say.

_It was a mistake to him._

It was only when she reached her hotel room that she allowed the tears to fall - though this time, not out of pure bliss nor beauty but from pain so deep she was sure her heart would never stop hurting.

_To be continued…_

**A/N - ****Thanks for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated! I'd love to know what you think.  
**


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